


I Can’t Stop Loving You

by TheHuskyDragon



Series: We’re all going forward/none of us are going back [10]
Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, I really never know what to tag these non-porn chapters I’m sorry, M/M, Sam is so tired, fragile shows the tiniest amount of “respect” for Higgs while he’s out, how many ways can Sam be told that Higgs loves him before he believe him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuskyDragon/pseuds/TheHuskyDragon
Summary: Higgs is still out, but they think they’ve found a way to bring him back. Which works.... but slowly.
Relationships: Sam Porter Bridges/Higgs Monaghan, very teeny hints at deadsam
Series: We’re all going forward/none of us are going back [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551493
Comments: 2
Kudos: 115





	I Can’t Stop Loving You

**Author's Note:**

> Whoooo this is... a chapter. Not much happens I guess but it was still a blast to have Deadman talk about dopamine and oxytocin. Yes this is all fact checked 
> 
> Title from Roy Charles’ song

A full day passes. He hadn’t seen Higgs move, but Deadman assured him he was doing better. How, Sam didn’t know. 

“You can’t really see it from the outside, but what is happening, is his cells were starved of chiralium. As these buildings are meant to keep as little chiral matter in the air as possible, he’s taking a toll. Anywhere else, or if he had any better way of getting chiral in his body— in controlled amounts of course— he may wake up sooner.”

“Then why the fuck don’t we do that?”

“Are you  _ crazy _ , Sam?” Deadman questioned, exasperated, “he could go insane again! We barely know his current state of mind. If he were to—“

“He doesn’t even have the same fuckin DOOMS level.”

“We  _ know _ , Sam.”

“He’s not connected to Amelie anymore.”

Deadman was speechless for a moment. “I see.” He paces a few steps before turning to Sam again. “Then how can he summon the Catcher BT? Wouldn’t he be the same level as Fragile?”

“Maybe closer to mine— that’s it!” Sam’s face snapped up to Deadman’s face. 

“What, Sam? What?”

“Fragile should still have his mask! That should would yeah? Having the skull on his face, it’s chiralium right?” Yeah, he’d had let Fragile keep his mask after he’d finished fighting him, back on the beach. 

But… that had been over a year ago. Who’d say she still had it? It was a rough shot, but who knows when Higgs would wake up without it. Or if they’d have anything else, anything as safe— as safe as it could be. 

“I’ll call her. You’re lucky she can jump, I wouldn’t let you get the mask yourself. No matter how much Higgs may need this.”

Sam breathes deeply as to calm his racing nerves. He wonders where Higgs’... consciousness is. At least when Sam is dead he’s in the seam, or on his beach until he crosses back over. Or even when he dreams— if — he was with Amelie or having nightmares. Since Higgs had such high DOOMS he had to have terrible, frightening nightmares right? Was he having them now, even with lowered DOOMS? Even if he was out like this?

Deadman was out of the room. He could hear his words if he cared enough. He didn’t. 

Sam puts his hand on Higgs’ cheek. His large hand almost looks comical with how thin Higgs is to him. Sam bends at the back and leans down, down further until their lips were inches apart…

“She’s looking for it, now, Sam!”

Sam straightens so fast he’s dizzy when he looks toward Deadman. It seems like he didn’t notice though. Sam’s face is hot. 

“In fact,” Deadman continues, “after we prove that the mask helps, I could… dismiss Higgs to your shared private quarters… if you’d like?” He offers. He moves his hand in a vague, questioning way while speaking. “He is really only connected to monitor his heart, as his vitals haven’t changed beyond normal. Normally we’d keep someone in here but…”

Sam arches an eyebrow. “Why doesn’t it change? I mean, sure, I could move him outta your way.”

“It’s odd, but everything other than raised stress levels, his vitals are—or would—be how they’d be if he was awake. His metabolism, dopamine and serotonin, general health… in fact, his dopamine is otherwise very, very low.”

“That bad?”

Deadman flicked his wrist to pull up Higgs’ vitals. “Well… yes. Yes, because your body needs dopamine, amongst various other chemicals. It helps with movement, which is interesting, and can result in cold hands and feet and uncontrollable shaking in the hands. That, and it motivates and helps whatever brain it is powering to focus. 

“A deficiency can lead to sugar cravings, impulsiveness and lack of sex drive.” Here, Sam has to hold in saying “ _ well, that isn’t an issue _ ,”. He holds his tongue. “Low dopamine affects apathy and controls whether or not someone or something will do something. It is more or less controlled by the reward system. Though it can be lost with too little dopamine. Soon, that being will develop anhedonia. It’s basically a constant joyless state.”

Deadman scrolled on the small blue screen. “Heartman has theorized that the chiral overdose that he had overloaded his brain with dopamine— common with drug overdoses. The extra dopamine is what causes the addiction, the constant want for more. Perhaps his body is in shock. We will most likely have him exposed to the mask— saying that it works— and small injections of dopamine.”

“That’ll work like that? Mixing the mask and the dopamine?”

“Well— maybe... We don’t know. Higgs is one in a million; just like you, Sam, but in a different way. You may have natural ways of, er… disposing of the BTs. With Higgs, we get to study the long term effects of chiralium overdose and radiation.”

“Isn’t it like…  _ illegal _ to do that without his permission?”

Deadman seems to sweat at the brow, “ _ ah— _ well yes… but it was more or less part of the contract of working for Bridges, of wearing the cuff, you see.”

Sam looks down at Higgs’ own cuff.  _ Like a prisoner _ . Though, if it wasn’t for Sam, Higgs would be in prison, for being a terrorist and all. He’s sure— _ positive _ even— that Bridges still wants to. Sam knows they won’t though.  _ Fuck _ , they  _ owe _ Sam for reconnecting the UCA. They probably couldn’t ever repay him. 

Higgs’ cuff is blue. Sam’s is orange. 

“What did Fragile say?”

“Hm? Oh yes, she said that she would have to look for it, but she did not throw it away.”

“That’s… good,” Sam said, more to reply out of politeness than anything. He could see why she’d throw it away, but isn’t sure why she  _ didn’t _ . Why  _ would _ she keep it? Fragile had hated Higgs the moment he gave her that bomb. She’s expressed multiple times that she’s never forgive him, no matter how much Sam could have redeemed him. 

But he isn’t under her control anymore. She’s completely separated from their beaches, and he wasn’t  _ fuckin insane  _ anymore. So what was the  _ deal _ ? It made no sense, there wasn’t anything abnormally wrong with Higgs that wasn’t  _ also wrong _ with Sam or anyone else in Bridges. 

Well. He can only change her mind so much. She’s already had the revenge she’d ask for. 

  
  
  


So within the day, just as it started to become dark, she teleports into the building. 

“You found it?” Deadman asks, “oh that’s great, Fragile!”

“I don’t know why I bothered to keep it. I didn’t think I’d be seeing him again. Or helping him.” She lets Deadman lead her into the room he’s in. Sam can see tense lines in her face from seeing him. “I suppose he can have it back…”

“You are a good person to help him, Fragile.” Deadman assures.

Sam speaks up, “Yeah, I owe you one.”

Fragile’s eyes flick between Higgs, Sam, and Deadman. Sam can see something cross Deadman’s eyes and Fragile blinks and purses her lips.  _ What the hell? _

Deadman looks over Higgs’ mask. It looks impeccably the same as Sam had last seen it. Shiny and textured. The mask doesn’t look quite like a mold as the teeth are individual pieces fitted between the jaws. The back of the jaws are completely connected though. Did he make it himself?

Deadman seems satisfied with whatever he was looking over and leans over the prone man to attach the mask. He opens Higgs’ vitals from his wrist and watches it closely as he fits the mask over his face. 

The apparel seems to almost jump to Higgs’ face like a magnet to another. It startles Sam, Deadman and Fragile together, just a bit. Higgs’ chest heaves like a drowning man. He presses his head into the pillow as his back arches a couple inches off the bed. His eyes squeeze as tears fall free. His brow creases. 

… then he slumps. Head tilted to the side a bit from the movement. His eyes are red from the allergy and Sam has to remind himself not to wipe away the tear tracks. 

_ Why does he have to stop himself? _

Before he could have possibly thought of a reason, Fragile says; “is that  _ it _ ?” Almost like she’s disappointed. She continues, “is that all that’s going to happen?”

“Well… it seems like that for now. The mask only touches a few points on his face, and lung intake will only do so much. Though! This is the best; any more and it would probably be too much too soon.”

“Can you give him a lot to begin with, just to wake him?” Sam asks. 

“See it this way: you shouldn’t give a starving, malnutritioned man a heart feast, it will overload Higgs’ cells and coagulate in the brain. His body needs the chiral matter in his cells. Far more than any of us need it. Ah— there we are, his dopamine levels are rising.” Deadman turns to Fragile with a genuine smile splayed across his face. “You were a great help! Unless you want to stay, we don’t need your presence here for now.”

“It is getting late… I’m glad I could help, though. Goodbye, Sam, Deadman.” And with a small dip of her chin to both of them, she jumps, leaving a flurry of embers in her place. 

“Another thing I would like you to know about Higgs, here, Sam.”

“Yeah?” Sam has a feeling Deadman waited until Fragile was gone to explain this. 

“While his dopamine levels are low, his oxytocin’s been normal for a healthy individual. A bit higher even. You know how difficult keeping moral high is.”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Oxytocin is commonly called the “love hormone”, I’m sure you’ve heard. Whenever Higgs is with you, I’ve seen his oxytocin level raise, and while you are separated, it lowers. It gets dangerously low at times— well,  _ dangerously _ is maybe an over statement, but it dramatically lowers. A deficiency in oxytocin is similar to anhedonia, stress, anxiety, depression, and a raised chance at developing Fibromyalgia.”

The hairs on the back of Sam’s neck bristle, he almost fears the answer to his next question; “you mean..”

“That’s right. You two being together keeps  _ both _ of you healthy. Most importantly, it keeps Higgs in check with himself.”

Okay. That’s… okay. It’s fine. Sam really isn’t sure what to do with this information and wishes he had something to keep his hands busy with. 

“I am not saying Higgs loves you, that’s for him to say, but if he says otherwise, studies show…” Deadman tilts his head towards him and arches a brow. He’s got a horrible smirk on his face. Sam swallows thickly and tries to not look like he’s seen a ghost.  _ Christ _ . It  _ has _ to be from Higgs’ weird obsession with Sam. There’s— Sam’s a nobody, there's barely any  _ goddamn reason _ Higgs would— would…

“I’ll let you carry him to your quarters yourself, if you’d like. Unless you’re wound has been bothering you…?”

Sam had cleaned it earlier. He’d almost completely forgotten about it. “No— no it’s fine. He’s all skin n bones anyway.”

* * *

“What am I gonna do with you,” Sam said to himself. He had sat himself on the edge of the bed where Higgs was now lying closest to the wall. He looks…  _ bizarre _ with the mask on. Wrong, yet horribly fitting all the same. Sam almost wants to take it off, just so he’d stop fucking  _ looking _ at it. Looking at Higgs’ face, the crows feet even while sleeping, the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

When Sam slides his hand into Higgs’, he feels how clammy and cold they are. ...What he  _ doesn’t _ expect, is for Higgs’ fingers to twitch. 

“Higgs? Higgs, wake up,” Sam says. He’s trying desperately to not sound panicked, to keep his voice calm. Higgs tosses his head back and forth, like he’s trying to dislodge the mask. He lets out little noises of protest past clenched teeth. 

“Nmm—nng,”

Sam faintly hears Mekal’s claws scratch against the ground, his tail thrash. 

“Nno— no… please.” Higgs’ voice is quiet, thin, breathless. 

“What’s wrong, Higgs? Wake up, tell me,”  _ please wake up, god, fuck.  _

His eyes open for a second, shining and pupils thin. They only stay open for a moment though, before gold-shimmering blue irises roll back. 

“Higgs. Cmon. Wake up.” Sam ignores the way his voice cracks. He can’t be bothered now. 

He continues to softly shake his shoulder and holds his hand. Higgs pants and trembles like he’s seen his worst nightmare. 

_ Fuck _ . Maybe that’s what this is, from being reintroduced to the mask. 

“C'mon Higgs. It’s okay now. You’re safe—“

“Ss—,” Higgs turns his head to the vague direction of Sam. He’s squinting his eyes and blinking away the tears. 

Even through the mild panic, all Sam can think upon seeing his bare eyes, the lack of kohl, is how  _ odd _ he looks...

_ Not  _ fucking _ now, Sam. _

“S— uhnn,” his chest continues to heave as if he can’t breath. “Sam…?”

“I’m here. I’m— right here,” he says, reaching for the mask. “Can’t you see me?”

Just as his fingers come into contact with the mask, Higgs’ hand snaps up and clutches tightly—  _ painfully— _ around his wrist. The taller man’s eyes are wide open now, still unfocused with gold flecks like— like  _ stars _ in his eyes. Where Higgs is holding him, he’s still got a hold on the mask. He tries to yank his hand away carefully, then stronger again. 

His hand doesn’t budge. 

“Sam?  _ Sam _ !? Where— where am I…? Oh.. ghh—… no,” Higgs’ eyes flick and roll from one side to the other, almost like he’s dizzy. Tremors roll over him in heavy waves. 

“You’re— You’re here with me Higgs. We’re in the private room. In Lake Knot City. It’s  _ okay _ , Higgs.” He tries again to pull his hand away, but that just encourages Higgs’ nails to dig into the flesh of his wrist. the grip is… surprisingly tight for the state he’s in. 

“No, I’m— n-no. I c… can’t be. He’s.. here— where is he…??” He’s still looking around frantically, like something is gonna catch him. Higgs gnaws on his bottom lip as his eyelids flutter. 

“Who,  _ goddamn _ it? Who Higgs? What are you talking about?”

Sam moves his free hand up to cup his cheek. His face is wet and tacky with tears and the  _ damn _ mask is still on. He pulls on his bottom eyelid with his thumb in an attempt to keep him awake. “Stay with me, Higgs. You’re in the private room. You’re not in your bunker. Look—“

He fumbles with the controls of his room, thankfully operable from his cuff. From there, he goes to his song list and plays  _ Phantoms _ from Low Roar. It’s one of Higgs’ favorites from them. “Hh—huh?”

“See, you’re in the private room, Higgs. Can you hear it? Tell me if you can.” He very softly pats Higgs’ cheek. 

“I— I can. I can hear your voice, Sam. But… he’s…”

_ Fuck _ ! Sam doesn’t know who  _ he _ is, the hell? “No, Higgs. It’s just me and— and your cat. You’re  _ fine _ . It’s just us two. Can you see me?”

“I don’t want... to go back, Sam. Pl… please… I’m so— tired.”

Sam breathes deep until his breath hitches. It’s  _ fine _ , he’s fine. It’s just some fucked nightmare. Sam untangles his hands from Higgs’ grasp and lays his hand on his chest. He’s still shivering, breathing shallow. “It’s okay. You can sleep for longer.”

He wants Higgs to be awake for longer. God himself knows he does, but he doesn’t want to stress him—  _ either _ of them any more. He feels like he’s gonna have a heart attack… or pass out on his own. He reminds himself to breath. 

Higgs’ eyelids flutter like he’s still trying to stay awake. Higgs reaches for him and Sam takes his hand in his again. Higgs doesn’t adjust his grip as it remains loose. “Sam… I don’t… wan..na,”

“You gotta. You can wake up later and we’ll eat pizza yeah? Just endure it for a while longer. You can do it.”

“A while… wh.. while longer..? I can… I can do that…”

And his eyes fall completely shut. 

Sam lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

Maybe he’ll sleep too. 

* * *

It’s fuck o’ clock when he wakes up next. His eyes are wet from sleeping next to Higgs with the mask on. He’s also cold with dried sweat, like he’d had shit dreams himself. 

He’s to the mirror when he grunts. It feels like a damn BT punches him right in his healing stab wound. He pulls up his shirt and moves to the mirror as he realizes he can’t painlessly twist his body to look himself. The weird chiral-patch has been partially soaked through with blood. The pain radiates through the bones of his ribs and cramps his overworked muscles. 

“Fuck,”

He hobbled his way into the shower after he undresses. He has to watch his breathing as if he breathes too deep, his wound threatens to open further. 

It was about time to redress the wound anyway. It oozes thin blood when he bends at the waist or lifts his arm too high. He cautiously lets the hot water run over the injury and clean it. He doesn’t run his own hand over it though, both opposed to wanting to feel the textured flesh with the stitches, and aggravating it further. 

As he’s being dried, he mindlessly yawns. He immediately regrets it and winces hard and holds his breath, waiting for the waves of pain to pass. 

“... _ O— _ kay,” he says to himself and steps out of the shower. As he reaches under the bed to get the gauze, he realizes Higgs had moved in his slumber. He’s curled into himself, like he’s trying to be as small as possible and shivering visibly. He finishes dressing his injury and himself before putting a hand on Higgs’ shoulder. 

He’s hot to the touch. His brow is creased and his breathing is slightly labored. 

He shakes the man. “Higgs?”

Higgs’ eyes open the tiniest amount, fluttering after a moment. He squints as if Sam wasn’t blocking most of the light— the room was already not that bright— and turns his face further into the sheets. Surprise and confusion passes over his face when he reaches up to hold the mask. Higgs makes no effort to remove it though. 

Higgs rubs his hands over his arms and tightness himself further. “Sam…”

He sighs softly at hearing his voice, even if it’s breathless and fragile like this. “Yeah? You feeling better?”

“I—I’m… cold… so cold… Sam,”

“Are ya? It’s really not that cold in here,”

“Where are.. we?” Higgs looks where Sam would be, but Sam can see how unfocused and shaky his gaze is. 

“I told you already.” Sam says, laying down as carefully as he can. The way Higgs is laying and where Sam can lay down and talk, has him laying on his left side; where the stitches are. “We’re in our private room.”

“Our…?” Higgs parrots. The corners of his eyes crease with a hidden smile. “Why… is my mask…?”

“It’s to help you, you gotta keep it on for a while, I guess.”

Higgs teeth chattering loudly behind the gold. He wriggles so he’s pressed against as much of Sam as he can. “Saaaaam…” he says thoughtlessly.

Sam chuckles softly and puts an arm around Higgs. If the taller man was a cat he’d probably be purring. “Y’like saying my name?”

“I do… Sam…. Sammy,”

“Don’t wear it out, fella. Hey, Higgs. Sleep for a bit more. It’s fuckin weird seeing you like this.”

“Hrmm, don’t… tell me what to do.”

“Whatever you say,”

Higgs snuggles his face into the crook between his shoulder and neck. Higgs breathes deeply, loudly through the mask. Sam closes his eyes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudos or comment yeah? Talk to me at Higgs-the-god on tumblr. Gee... when’s the next time THEYRE gonna fuck? Like seriously?


End file.
